


Highlight My Heart

by SodaWizard



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Arthur is bitter and indecisive, Books, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Romance, usuksecretsanta2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5703229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SodaWizard/pseuds/SodaWizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, it was the same routine. Smiling at the awful gifts he had to unwrap in front of dozens of people, and mentally screaming to himself once he realized how utterly disappointing the last-second present he gave someone was. Everyone on Earth knew better than to give a present to Arthur Kirkland on Christmas, and everyone respected that. Everyone but Alfred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highlight My Heart

Another layer of snow coated over the ground as Arthur peered out the window. The flashing and stunning lights from outside glared through the glass as he tried to read through the beginning chapters of _Written on the Body._  Arthur’s peppermint tea did little to push him into the holiday spirit, nor the winter-scented _Febreze_ that had been sprayed in the air far too many times than necessary. With a yellow highlighter in one hand, Arthur carefully marked up lines of dialogue and poetic movement with the edge of the marker as he read page after page in his book. He practically melted in the peace that came with the story in his hands.

His joyful quiet had been quickly interrupted by the sound of shouting children, and he paused to take the time and glare at the preteens that were yelling and throwing snow at one another across the street. They were happily dodging around one of the house’s holiday displays, and Arthur watched one of the kids bundled in a coat and earmuffs hide behind an inflated snowman that was bedazzled in plenty red and green lights.

Arthur hated over-decoration.

He considered getting up and walking into a different room, seeing as how the children didn’t look like they’d put an end to their shenanigans anytime soon. Really, it seemed too cold for anyone to want to be outside. Maybe that was just him being bitter, but there wasn’t much excitement in piles of water crystals and there definitely wasn’t anything interesting about throwing it around.

One of the kids stopped to try and catch a snowflake on her tongue, only to earn a handful of snow aimed at the side of her face instead.

He cringed.

...Arthur hated the holidays.

He stopped to gather his bookmark before continuing to observe the kids, knowing he didn’t have that much time alone left anyways. Alfred would be coming home soon. As much as he loved his boyfriend, he did enjoy it when he had time to himself. There were plenty of times where they could cuddle with one another while Arthur read or napped, but the Brit had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t be getting such tranquility when Alfred returned from work like he required when he read.

The poor guy got dragged into work on his day off, and Alfred was livid. A full day of work when he was supposed to be on paid vacation “preparing for the holidays”. It was only the twenty-third, so Arthur didn’t see much need for extra preparation when they already had a tree. Alfred had never wanted to take that many days off for previous Christmases, nor for any other holiday before. When Arthur questioned about it, he just announced that he was “in the holiday spirit” and wanted to go all-out. There was no need for it! The day before Christmas Eve was for last-minute shoppers and dreadful “Merry Christmas” greetings from store employees.

Ah! Another thing Arthur absolutely hated about the holidays:

Gift-giving.

Arthur was always too wound up in worrying about getting the right thing for people. His colleagues and friends knew better than to get the Brit a present. Just the mere idea of saying “I _thought_ about buying this for you!” was enough to make Arthur’s year.

He always felt like an asshole for giving something that was cheap compared to someone else’s gift to him, or embarrassed if his seemed to have more thought or effort put into his present than what he received from the same person.

It was all just a guilty roller-coaster that Arthur didn’t want to be a part of.

But Alfred never listened.

As sweet as Alfred was, his enthusiasm for the holidays drew Arthur up the wall. Decorations, obnoxious sweaters, Christmas CDs, and _presents._ Arthur didn’t _want_ presents, but yet, every year, Alfred never failed to make him feel awful with how wonderful his gifts were.

Not only that, but Alfred always tried to trump the gift he gave the year before.

Last year, Alfred had went out and scouted through knick-knack shops and internet listings to find a wonderful china tea set that would go with the rest of Arthur’s porcelain dishes, and an array of dress clothes he could wear to work. And what had Alfred gotten in return? A watch and some fancy cologne. As much as Alfred swore he loved the watch, and he wore the thing every day since, Arthur knew he could’ve tried far harder or found something far more meaningful to Alfred than _cologne_ and a _watch_.

At least this time, he managed to convince Alfred to only buy him one item. But, Alfred wouldn’t let him set a price limit. He assured him, it was more of a present for the both of them than just for Arthur, but it didn’t seem very helpful when he knew it would have to be better than the wonderful items he got him the year before. When Arthur tried to pry, Alfred always told him the same thing. “It doesn’t matter how much it is, it’s how much it means.”

To hell with that!

What was he supposed to do in return? Gift cards were an awful go-to. They were practically screaming “I didn’t know what to get you!” and added on a money value that essentially meant how much you were willing to spend on that person. Alfred didn’t have a price value.

No, what Arthur needed was something that Alfred would actually _enjoy._ Jewelry? No, he didn’t like heavy things around his neck. Which, certainly would be the problem if he bought him another locket. And he was allergic to certain metals. The last thing he wanted was for part of his skin to turn green because a gold chain wasn’t entirely gold. Clothes? No, he had plenty of those. Besides, Alfred had odd measurements and it was always hard to find pants that would actually fit his long legs, let alone work pants. And, of course, he could have always gone for the more boring gift of just giving him a container of tools like flashlights and screwdrivers, but Alfred had enough of those and a gift like that made it obvious that he didn’t put much effort into thinking... Oh, he was an awful boyfriend.  
  
For all of the years they spent in a relationship! For all of the tired four AM discussions they had, sitting in the same dining room table that they would eat their meals at every day, he didn’t know enough about Alfred to actually get him something _good_ for Christmas! For Alfred’s birthday he at least could always just go out and buy him a gag gift and do whatever the male wanted for the day, and Alfred was happy with that. The American was usually more distracted with the fireworks outside than the stress his boyfriend threw himself into whenever he had to go shopping for him. Alfred always got wound up in the Christmas spirit, and there was no pulling him out of it. Christmas was different than his birthday. For Christmas, he actually had to try.

 Chewing on his thumbnail, Arthur glanced back out towards the window in a fit of upset. Maybe looking at someone getting into the Christmas spirit would help him think along those lines too? 

He watched the kids outside build a snowman for a while as he thought, before an older woman opened the door and they all headed inside. A couple walked by, hand-in-hand, and Arthur tried to go back to thinking. He couldn’t give Alfred a romantic walk for Christmas. It was freezing outside. Alfred may have liked romantic walks, and Arthur thoroughly enjoyed them too, but there was no way he would be caught dead doing such a thing when he was so... cold. One of the neighbors pulled up into their driveway and Alfred considered getting something for Alfred’s car, but there was nothing he really needed nor fixed with it. It was new and running. A new car for Christmas would have been beneficial for a teen just learning how to drive, not a twenty year old man that worked in finances. 

He stared at the car for some while as kids toppled out and groceries were taken from the trunk. He couldn’t give Alfred _kids_ for Christmas, and the idea of making Alfred an amazing meal for the holiday was out of the question. Besides, from what he understood, Alfred had set plans for him. 

Arthur huffed under his breath and glanced outside again. The snow was covering the walkway already, and he was sure Alfred was going to have fun stepping in it. 

A woman walking her dog passed by, the little canine bouncing and hopping happily in the piles of snow on the sidewalk. The excitement of the dog had him thinking about Alfred again, and his insides rolled over. 

Even if he didn’t get Alfred anything, Alfred would still be happy about the holiday and not think anything of it. Alfred didn’t care if he got anything in return, just as long as he was there with him. Why did he have to be so selfless? 

The Brit watched as the canine stopped in place, almost like it was contemplating whether or not it should run into the undisturbed snow in front of Arthur’s home. It yipped at the snow before trotting onwards, tail high and wagging as its owner picked up the pace so they could walk faster. 

Alfred had always wanted a dog, he could recall. Alfred’s mother had spent plenty of times babbling on about how Alfred had dragged in puppy after puppy inside their house when he couldn’t find the owner. He had tried to rope his brother into hiding one in their room to take care of countless of times, but yet they never succeeded in the end. 

Arthur very well knew Alfred wanted a pet. He always stayed behind on their walks so he could stop and give the other dogs in the park extra attention and talk to their owners. When he helped out at the shelter over the summer, he always babbled on about the border collies and pugs that got families. There was a pitbull that went unnoticed for the longest time, and maybe if Arthur actually thought about it back then, he would’ve picked up on the hinting Alfred left with how much he wanted to adopt the pup.  

An animal’s life was priceless. 

.And an animal was a perfect Christmas gift. 

A puppy-! He could get Alfred a puppy! 

Though, animals were a popular winter gift. It was possible that the small, adorable pups and kits were already purchased, but an older dog wouldn’t have been a bad gift either. They usually had all of their shots, they were usually trained.. Exactly what they needed when the two of them worked full-time jobs. 

Arthur grinned rather smugly to himself as he leaned back in his chair. He had something good planned for Christmas this year! A _good_ gift! One that Alfred would like! And, one that would hopefully stand similar to whatever the American was getting him. He just had to check in with the shelter to see what their hours were. 

* * *

As predicted, Alfred returned home from work agitated and huffy. It wasn’t a very fitting attitude for the usual bubbly man Arthur had grown to love, but that mood quickly smoothed out once his boyfriend got a chance to drink down a cup of hot chocolate and pick which lights they were going to add to their display outside.

 Alfred had taken a few pictures of the lights before they retreated back inside, hiding away from the bite of the cold that followed the weather. Arthur was certain he had gotten snow down the back of his shirt, and awkwardly hobbled back to their room so he could change into something that wasn’t wet.

 Arthur frowned and huffed as Alfred stepped inside to do the same, turning towards the American when he had finished and opened his mouth to speak.

 But, oddly enough, Alfred cut him off before he could even get a word out.

 “I know what you’re going to ask,” was Alfred’s deflated statement, like they had done this a thousand times over.

 Arthur just quirked an eyebrow in interest, slowly closing his mouth. “...What?”

 “You’re gonn’a ask me what I got you for Christmas,” Alfred answered, tugging off his tie and reaching for one of his sweatshirts. “Just like you’ve been doin’ all week once I get off work.” He grabbed for his pajama pants. “And I won’t tell ‘ya what it is.”

 “I wasn’t going t-” 

“And then you’re gonn’a ask me more questions so you can try ‘n get it out of me.” 

Well, yes. That was _usually_ how things went. But Arthur wasn’t going to ask what his present was, he was a tad more interested in what they were going to have for dinner instead.

 “And I _know_ it’s because you don’t know what to get me. And, like I’ve said before, you don’t have’ta get me anything.”

 Arthur frowned. “Who’s to say I haven’t already gotten you something?”

 It may not have been set in stone, but it was within reach. He had talked to the workers at the shelter, and they had some pups left that were still in need of owners. Arthur was planning on stopping by the shelter to check as Alfred ran some last-minute errands, like he always did. Alfred wouldn’t have suspected a thing.

 It was odd.

 He wasn’t usually so confident in his gift. But, it seemed that this Christmas was going to be different anyways. Arthur’s mother cancelled on their usual Christmas dinner with Alfred and him, but instead suggested that she just have lunch with Arthur instead. Alfred was fine with it. In fact, he was.. Prepared for it. He had reservations for two at some restaurant he wouldn’t say the name of.

 Alfred’s eyebrows raised in surprise at the Brit’s partial confession, stopping to turn towards him. “You have?”

 “I have,” Arthur confirmed, a small wave of pride settling in his stomach as he smirked to himself. “And you’re going to love it!”

 Alfred just hummed a bit in thought, nodding along and going back to dressing himself. ”I’m sure I will.”

 “No, _really_ Al!” Arthur folded his arms over his chest, thinking that the other was just brushing off his pride. “It’s going to be better than any gift I’ve ever given you! Better than what you’re getting me! Just you wait and see!”

 His boyfriend just shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes, of which caused Arthur to glare at the back of his head. If he cared to look hard enough, Arthur would’ve caught the knowing smile across Alfred’s lips.

* * *

 Christmas Eve was spent cuddling on the couch with hot cocoa when Alfred wasn’t off making plans on his phone. Arthur didn’t know what he was doing half of the time, nor did he really care, and went back to reading his book, or half-paying attention to whatever holiday movie was playing on the television. (Alfred had even conned him into wearing a Christmas sweater for the majority of the day. Even though it was originally Alfred’s, and a couple sizes too large.)

 While Alfred was out last-minute shopping for his brother, Arthur took the chance to investigate the animals they had left at the shelter. After explaining his situation, Arthur settled on a lovely two year old golden retriever that seemed skittish at first, but grew fond of Arthur the more he hung around her.

 A close friend of Arthur’s, Francis, was more than happy with stopping by to take care of her overnight, and willing to sneak her into Arthur’s home while he was out having dinner with Alfred. After some lovely puppy shopping, they added a red and green collar with bells to their list and purchased the supplies that were in need.

 Alfred had gotten up before Arthur did on Christmas morning. Arthur didn’t really see a rhyme or reason to do so, considering that they weren’t opening presents in the early hours of the morning. Alfred had made it clear that he wanted them to open gifts towards the end of the night.

 Arthur groaned and trudged down the stairs to meet Alfred in the kitchen, the American happily bouncing around as he cooked. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Arthur opened the refrigerator and took out one of the containers of eggnog, fully intending on drinking it out of the carton before he got a glass. Eggnog and peppermint flavored candies were one of the only things Arthur actually liked about the winter holiday. He thoroughly enjoyed mixing rum with it when he had the chance to.

 “I don’t want too much, Al. I don’t want to spoil my lunch with mum.”

 Alfred nodded before he turned around and stopped Arthur short, snatching the carton that was just mere inches away from his lips and plucking the cap from between his fingertips as well.

Instead, Alfred replaced the items with a nice mug filled with the beverage instead.

“Can-do, sugar-cube! I’m almost done with everythin’."

Arthur grumbled out a murmur of thanks before he downed half of his mug, and even took the time to peak towards what Alfred was making for breakfast. Arthur could never say no to omelettes, and promptly sat himself down at the dining room table.

Their lazy Christmas morning smoothed out easily into their plans for the rest of the day. Arthur had gone and enjoyed his lunch with his mother and relished in the affection Alfred gave him when he returned home. It wasn’t long before the two of them dressed up and left to go to the restaurant Alfred had set reservations for.

Alfred must have been insane to manage getting reservations for it. It may have been one of Arthur’s favorite places to eat, but it was expensive and busy for a Christmas night.

Arthur could enjoy himself. He was giving Alfred a good gift in return. Besides, the meal they were going to have was coming out of both of their paychecks anyways. It was like he was just having a nice date with Alfred. ‘Christmas’ had nothing to do with it.

Their dinner had went nicely, for the most part. Arthur tried his hardest to brush past the awkward “Merry Christmas” mumbles whenever he walked past or stood by someone he didn’t know. And, not to mention, the restaurant was awfully cold and Arthur didn’t have a nice jacket like Alfred had thought to bring along.

Shivering at the blast of air that was provided as they walked outside, Arthur grimaced tried to step around the icy parts of the snow. He had texted Francis during the dinner to take the pup in. So, hopefully, the pup would behave in the laundry room for the.. twenty or so minutes she’d be in there.

Alfred shrugged off his own jacket once he noticed Arthur’s shivering, quickly placing it over his shoulders to trap the heat against Arthur’s body. Arthur mumbled out a thanks and pressed up under Alfred’s arm.

Driving home seemed easy enough, but Alfred seemed to be fidgety and nervous as the minutes went by. ..They were just opening presents when they got home. There wasn’t much to it. Arthur was already planning on just opening them and hopping into bed afterwards. He was already tired of the Christmas spirit and he had hardly been in it at all.

Holidays were exhausting and emotionally draining.

The first thing Alfred did once they stepped inside was take his hand and drag him towards the living room.

“Can you open mine first?” Arthur budged, smirking to himself. But Alfred just shook his head and grinned.

“I kind’a want you to open first. Besides, you said yours was going to better, so, we could save the best for last..?” Alfred coerced instead.

Arthur very well knew that it was just a con so Alfred could get him to open his first, but Arthur was a little too giddy and tired to really care.

With a grin, Alfred scampered off over towards their Christmas tree and pulled out a rather large box. There were other presents at the bottom of the tree, but they were mainly for other people that Alfred had yet to give out. They’d probably make a trip to his parents’ house tomorrow, and visit Alfred’s brother then, too.

The American took the box and planted it smack dab in the middle of Arthur’s lap, and Arthur resisted the urge to groan over how heavy the box was.

He could enjoy himself. He got Alfred a puppy. Their gifts would be even this year.

Arthur was slow as he started to piece off the wrapping paper, taking extra caution like he was afraid to unwrap the semi-messy tape job. He tried to ignore the weight of the box and slid open the flaps of the cardboard. His heart was hammering in his chest over the rush of excitement over the idea of what could be in the box.

A wide grin set across his features once he caught glimpse of what was inside, sitting up straight. The contents of the box was books. Many, many books! His favorite books!

His smile fell.

...His own books.

Arthur glanced over towards the bookshelf, quickly recognizing the absence of some of the novels on the shelves.

The Briton furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and started to pick some of the books out, lifting his head to glare at the American sitting beside him.

“...What is this?” Arthur butchered, starting to worry that his gift was going to end up better than Alfred’s.

This was a joke, right?

“Keep goin’,” Alfred encouraged, that stupid little smile not leaving his expression.

Arthur just frowned and continued shuffling through the box, taking out the books and setting them on the couch cushion beside him. But, he gasped and yanked one of them out of its spot once he caught sight of the titles.

“You took the one I was _reading_ and put it in here _too_?! Alfred! You took this off of my nightstand!” He scolded, skimming his hands over the sides of it as he inspected the book for any damage Alfred may have caused. But, his eyes widened when he realized something- Or, the lack thereof- wedged between the pages. “You took out my bookmark!”

“Alfred-- This isn’t funny! You better hope I can find the page I left off on!” Arthur chastised, agitated that the other would do something to his books. They were placed in a specific order, on that bookshelf. And now Arthur had to waste his time putting them _back_.

But Alfred just sat there in his suit and shrugged, looking at him expectantly.

With a huff, Arthur slipped between the pages to try and find where he had left off at. He didn’t know what Alfred did to his bookmark, but he wasn’t going to question him about it. He was a little too irked to want to ask.

Arthur tore off a strip of wrapping paper and slipped it into place once he found the chapter he left on. But, there seemed to be a sticky-note already in place, stuck to the page he was reading.

It didn’t take much to recognize Alfred’s messy handwriting, but it did take a little bit of effort to try and make out what it said.

‘ **PAGE 9** ’, with a (slightly messy) drawing of a heart.

The Brit just furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at the American before he did so, only to find another sticky-note in place. Before he read it, though, he noticed that something was highlighted. Something that wasn’t from his own bright yellow highlighter. Instead, there was a line on the page that was highlighted in blue.

_‘You said, ‘I love you.’ Why is that the most unoriginal thing we can say to one another is still the thing we long to hear? ‘I love you’ is always a quotation. You did not say it first and neither did I, yet when you say it and when I say it we speak like savages who have found three words and worship them.’_

Ahh, he loved the words of Jeanette Winterson. But that was not the point. Alfred still put marker to one of his books, and there was _another_ note to follow and _another_ set of directions on it.

‘ **THE PRINCESS BRIDE. DO I LOVE YOU?** ’

Was this some sort of game? The note wasn’t very much of a clue. The book itself was about love. He sighed and shuffled through the stacks of books that use to be inside the box, eventually finding _The Princess Bride._ The books that Alfred had gathered were all of his favorites. Well, all of his favorite romance novels. But, he tried to brush past that embarrassment.

He flicked through the first few pages before he was stopped by a vibrant green sticky-note, and another passage highlighted in blue.

_‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches.'_

Arthur smiled sheepishly and glanced over towards Alfred again, his eyebrows raised in search for some sort of answer. Alfred just looked away, his cheeks pink.

Very well.

The note accompanying the highlighted passage just had a name:

‘ **NICHOLAS SPARKS !** ’

Arthur quickly dropped the book and set it inside the box on his lap, quickly shuffling through the titles to find _The Notebook._ He was quick to pluck the book from the mass and start at the first few pages.

And he found another set of instructions, and stanza highlighted in blue.

‘ _I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who’s ever lived: I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.'_

And the post-it note soon to follow:

‘ **JANE EYRE**

 **P.G. 315** ’

It took Arthur a moment to decipher whether or not the one was a seven, but he had came to the conclusion that it was, in fact, the number one, and searched for _Jane Eyre._

Just like Arthur had suspected, there was more highlighted lines and another vibrant note. The amount highlighted on the page almost blinded him for a moment, but he recovered soon after. He usually would have been mad at Alfred for doing something to his books without permission, but he supposed he would let the romantic gesture slide this one time. It was Christmas, afterall.

_‘I have for the first time found what I can truly love -- I have found you. You are my sympathy -- my better self -- my good angel; I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my center and spring of life, wraps my existence about you -- and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.’_

Ohh, Arthur loved that part.

The post-it note had a drawing accompanied by the instructions this time, though. There was a crude stick-figure drawing penned out in black ink, of a girl in a tower and a stick-man standing below. With a speech bubble connected to the girl apparently saying “Romeo, oh Romeo!”, with Alfred’s chicken-scratch instruction of:

‘ **ACT 2, SCENE 2 !!** ’

beside it.

He had never seen something so silly when referring to one of William Shakespeare’s plays, but he certainly didn’t object as he tried to find one of his hardback playscript copies.

' _My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.’_

Alfred always made-fun of the way people talked during that time period. Alfred wouldn’t be caught dead reading something like that. But, obviously, Alfred had to go out of his way to read through his books or search something up to find all of the quotes he was highlighting and marking.

“What’s all of this about, Alfred?"

“Just keep going!!”

Arthur sighed and plucked the note off of the page, his eyes scanning over Alfred’s gibberish all over again.

‘ **PRINCESS BRIDE**

 **...NOT FAR FROM CH.2** ’

Didn’t he already look through _The Princess Bride_?

Grimacing, Arthur tried to shuffle through the books to find it again, only to have Alfred pick it out and hand it to him.

He flicked through the pages and read the first note again, before he eventually found what he was looking for closer to chapter two than he expected.

' _I love you. Okay? Want it louder? I love you. Spell it out, should I? I ell-oh-vee-ee why-oh-you. Want it backward? You love I.’_

Arthur couldn’t help but snort a bit at the quote, brushing his fingertips over the page quite fondly. But, there was still another note to continue onto. ..Was there a note in _every book_ in the box? He didn’t want to spend the next hour reading romance lines from books he already read.

‘ **POISON STUDY**

 **P.G 30** ’

Oh, no. Arthur pleaded that Alfred hadn’t actually _read_ through chapter thirty.

Things were romantic, things were heating up, and it was _definitely_ something he didn’t want to be caught reading.

With a nervous grin, his cheeks tinged pink as he flipped to the correct page.

(Alfred had failed to highlight the word ‘But’ at the start of the line.)

‘ _..you’ve slipped under my skin, invaded my blood and seized my heart._ ’

Arthur quirked an eyebrow and peeked over towards Alfred one last time. Judging by how red his cheeks were, he was either really embarrassed about the whole ordeal of ‘what his Christmas gift was’ or read around the highlighted quote.

‘ **P &P**

 **P.G. 34** ’

 _Pride and Prejudice..._ Where was _Pride and Prejudice?_

With a small cry of delight, he dragged the book out and thumbed through the pages of chapter thirty-four, a tiny rush of excitement joining his exhaustion as he found the note within the very beginning of it.

_‘In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’_

This gift was definitely more romantic and heart-felt than his. Maybe he could think up some speech that sounded nice and like he put a lot of hard work into preparing and thinking up the idea of getting him a dog.

‘ **JANE EYRE**

 **P.G. 252** ’

Alfred really needed to work on his penmanship if he wanted to get anywhere with it.

And didn’t he already go through that book, too? What about the five other ones? He couldn’t seriously expect him to sit around all night and flipping between pages and books and notes. He could only handle so much sappy love in one night. Alfred was never really good with words, other than ‘I love you so fuckin’ much!’, so was this some sort of attempt to match up to Arthur’s own words for romance?

_‘“I ask you to pass through life at my side--to be my second self, and best earthly companion.”’_

Ohh, boy.

If anybody in the world read _Jane Eyre,_ they would have known that the book was about .. _marriage_.

“Alfred, really--What’s this all about?”

“Y-You’re not done yet. That’s not all of it!”

Arthur attempted to swallow the lump in his throat as he grabbed _another_ sticky-note.

‘ **REBECCA**

 **P.G. 6 ;)** ’

 _Rebecca_?  _Rebecca_ wasn’t in the pile, as far as he knew. Arthur frowned and hectically looked through the books again, frowning in confusion. He skimmed over the titles in an attempt to find the book, but ended up turning to Alfred for some sort of clue.

“Alfred, that one’s not in here.”

The American just nodded towards the bookshelf and sunk in his seat, his cheeks bright red. Alfred always had this nervous tick of rubbing the back of his neck when he was anxious, so it wasn’t much of a surprise to catch him doing so.

Arthur heaved the box of books off of his lap and wandered over towards the bookshelf. He scanned over for any sign of _Rebecca_ , note in hand. It took him a little while to find it, because it was placed incorrectly on the shelf. Really, he had lectured the American over and over again about how to put the books away when he moved them.

_And this was probably the dumbest thing Alfred had done to one of his books. Did it take a genius to remember the books go spine-out? It was so he could read the title without taking every book out of the shelf._

Anger aside, Arthur reluctantly picked up _Rebecca_ and wandered back towards the couch as he started through chapter six.

“Alfred, is this some attempt at getting me to do something for you? I... This is really heartfelt. Did you read through all of these? ...Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Arthur squawked, his cheeks flaring red.

_“No, I’m asking you to marry me, you little fool.”’_

Arthur cursed the words of Daphne du Maurier.

The Brit’s throat tightened and he picked the last note off of the page with a shaky hand. He was fighting back tears at the thought of it all, his body rigid as he tried to take the time to breathe.

The last note didn’t have any words on it, but rather a drawing, that was obviously done with a shaky hand. It was a doodle of a book, with the title just as the letter ‘R’. But there was an arrow pointing to the spine of it.

Arthur grazed his fingertips over the hardback cover, letting his fingers brush up the spine but paused once he felt something... unnatural on the back of it.

Flipping the book around, Arthur stopped dead in his tracks when he realized what he was just touching.

Along the spine was a stretch of tape, keeping a silver ring tightly against the book.

“You’ve got to be kidding me--” Arthur started, already starting to choke up as he frantically peeled the tape away to get a better look at the ring. “I- You’re _not_ kidding, are you?”

The man in question shook his head and blushed all the more, a nervous grin in place. “Merry Christmas..?”

Arthur turned in his spot with the ring in his hand, resulting into quiet sniffles a he leaned towards the American to embrace him in a hug.

“Yes! Merry Christmas. Yes.” Arthur stumbled over his words, pulling back just enough so Alfred could be the one to slip the ring on his finger.

And once again, Arthur realized with a hint of spite, Alfred trumped his Christmas present by a long shot.

**Author's Note:**

> The books mentioned above, in order of appearance !
> 
>  _Written on the Body_ by Jeanette Winterson (the book being read in the beginning and first note)
> 
>  _The Princess Bride_ by William Goldman
> 
>  _The Notebook_ by Nicholas Sparks
> 
>  _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Bront
> 
>  _Romeo and Juliet_ by William Shakespeare
> 
>  _The Princess Bride_ by William Goldman (again)
> 
>  _Poison Study_ by Maria V. Snyder
> 
>  _Pride and Prejudice_ by Jane Austen
> 
>  _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Bront (again)
> 
>  _Rebecca_ by Daphne du Maurier
> 
> For the lovely ParmeJeanRavioli on tumblr !!  
> :^)


End file.
